


i wanna be here with you from now on

by marcoreus



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Crismes, M/M, cristiames
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 09:10:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3244130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marcoreus/pseuds/marcoreus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sight he’s greeted with is a mugshot, belonging to Cristiano Ronaldo, CEO of a business he can’t seem to recall. He’s sure he’s heard the name in passing a few times, but he’s never been able to put a face to the name. Shame when he finally gets the opportunity to, it’s when Cristiano’s in jail.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i wanna be here with you from now on

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is nikki's fault. (also the fact that i'm in crismes hell 24/7)
> 
> title from aquaman by walk the moon
> 
> disclaimer: i know like, nothing about law/courts so this is probably VERY off. also i don't own any people used in this fic.

**WHEN HE FIRST** hears about him, he’s seated comfortably in the café just down the street from his office, sipping a cappuccino so he can at least appear _alive_ and actually capable of getting work done despite getting only two hours of sleep last night.

He’s seated directly in front of the TV, back to the screen, so when he hears the signature BREAKING NEWS sound, he immediately swivels his head around to look at the television. The sight he’s greeted with is a mugshot, belonging to Cristiano Ronaldo, CEO of a business he can’t seem to recall. He’s sure he’s heard the name in passing a few times, but he’s never been able to put a face to the name.

Shame when he finally gets the opportunity to, it’s when Cristiano’s in jail.

The reporter goes on to talk about the successful career of Ronaldo and how terrible it is that on top of being a successful businessman, he’s also a murderer.

And that’s what peaks James’ curiosity.

The story goes as follows: Cristiano murdered Luis Suarez, who had apparently stolen some money from the former. Hell-bent on revenge, Cristiano visited Suarez late two nights prior, and had mercilessly stabbed him multiple times, resulting in a very painful death for Suarez.

No matter how many times he hears the story – and he does, since that’s all they talk about on the news for the rest of the day – it just doesn’t feel _right_. James likes to pride himself on his intuition, whenever he feels like something’s off, it generally is. Just last week, when Lionel Messi’s company seemed to be doing great with its investments, he sensed that it wasn’t natural; true to his word, one of his employees, Andrés Iniesta, had taken part in insider trading.

So when his gut told him that something was off with this case – that maybe it wasn’t as simple as the reporters made it seem – he knew he had to do something about it.

And he does.

•  •  •

James is seated in a room, waiting for his client – he still can’t believe the rash decision he made to represent Cristiano – to show up. James isn’t known for being patient, so he spends most of the wait tapping his foot obnoxiously and checking his watch every three seconds. The guard at the door keeps sneaking annoyed glances at him, so James makes a note to tap his foot just a _little_ bit harder.

It takes about ten minutes – although, to James that’s akin to an hour – for Cristiano to walk in, accompanied by an officer who gives James a seething glare. He sits down, and James can notice the red marks on his arms caused by the too-tight handcuffs that encircle his wrists.

“Hello, Cristiano,” he greets, opening up the case file that the officer at the front not-so-kindly gave him. “I’m James Rodríguez. I’ll be representing you for the duration of your trial.”

Cristiano doesn’t say anything, he just stares down at his hands.

“If I’m going to be your lawyer, I need to know if you’re guilty or innocent. You need to tell me _everything_ there is to know so I can do my job properly. If you leave our information or lie to me, and I find out – let’s just say you won’t like me very much when I’m angry.”

At this, Cristiano sits up, looking directly into his eyes. “What good is what I say? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m in _jail_. I’ve officially been labeled as a criminal. No one’s going to believe a thing I say, and those who might, have probably been brainwashed by the media. What good is the truth when _no one_ will fucking believe a word I say?”

“Do you think I would have volunteered myself to represent you if I didn’t think there were some discrepancies in the story? Why else would I have taken time out of my hectic schedule to help a seemingly lost cause, if I didn’t think you were worth it?”

“Pity,” he replies almost instantaneously. “Or maybe it’ll help your career. Everyone will see you defending a murderer and they’ll commend you for taking on such a difficult case.”

“I’m successful enough already. I have absolutely no desire to further my career when I’m already well-off. As a lawyer, it’s my job to help people. And you? Well, with the way this case stands… you’re going to need all the help you can get. I’m one of the best, and if you cooperate, I’ll get you out of this. I promise.”

In response, Cristiano mumbles something under his breath.

“Come again?”

“Innocent. I didn’t kill Suarez.”

•  •  •

The rest of that week, James spends his time either combing through files on Luis Suarez or visiting Cristiano in jail. Most of his nights are spent working late at the office, and among those, there are some when he falls asleep at his desk and wakes up the next morning to worried looks from his colleagues.

Marcelo wants to know why he’s so engrossed in this case (“You didn’t even know this guy until like, a few days ago.”) and Isco wants to know why he’s even representing Cristiano (“He’s a killer, that guy. You can’t trust people like him.”). He tries to explain why he’s doing this – he tries to tell them that there’s something inside of him telling him that there’s so much more to this story, that it feels like Cristiano’s telling the truth when he says he’s innocent. He tries and he tries but none of them understand.

It’s not like he expects them too, anyway. When it comes to Cristiano, he’s pretty sure he’s the only one that believes in his innocence.

Or at least, that’s what he believes until one day, he gets a call from Chicharito, another one of his colleagues, offering his assistance. “If you believe he’s innocent, he probably is. I can’t stand by and watch an innocent man go to jail.”

Having another person helping him out does help, and three days later, they’ve managed to dig up some dirt on Suarez.

Cristiano wasn’t his only victim. He’s stolen from many others before, so all of them are potential suspects. He’s feeling a lot more optimistic about this case and makes sure to say so during his next visit with his client.

“We’ve finally got _something_ on Suarez. It took forever to dig it up – the guy’s really good at concealing his history – but we got it.” He opens his mouth to say more, but he’s cut off.

“Wait. Who’s _we_?”

“One of my friends is helping me out with this case. You’ll probably see him in court.”

“He’ll get to meet me before I get sentenced to death. How lovely.”

“You’re not getting the death sentence,” James states matter-of-factly.

“Oh yeah? And what makes you so sure?”

“Because you’re _innocent_. Now, forgive me if I’m wrong, but innocent people usually don’t get sentenced to death. And besides, with this new discovery, any case they have against you is gone. All the other people he stole from had the same motive as you, so it makes no sense for them to assume it’s you, when it could be any of them.”

Cristiano rolls his eyes. “Did you not read the report? I was the last person anyone had seen with him. You forgot that small detail. He may have stolen from other people, but that doesn’t change this fact.” He lets out a deep breath. “And the fact that you believe innocence people don’t get sentenced to death just goes to show how much of an idealist you are. It’s something that happens every day, and after this trial is over, you’ll get to see proof of it.”

“Cris—”

“This trial is a lost cause. _I’m_ a lost cause. Why bother?”

•  •  •

When he returns home, James finds himself suddenly drained of energy. He doesn’t know what to do about Cristiano. He seems so convinced that he’s not worth saving, and James wants to tell him that he is – he wants him to know that he might not think he’s all that great but he is. He wants him to know how brave it is to hold onto his innocence when he’d probably get off much easier if he pleaded guilty.

He wants to do so many things, but he knows that no matter what he does, nothing will change. Cristiano will still think he’s not worth the trouble (but he is. He’s worth so much more than he thinks he is).

So he focuses on his work.

He calls up Chicharito and the two spend the rest of the day looking through the case files repeatedly, re-reading Cristiano’s statement, and trying to determine other possible suspects.

With all the work they’re doing, it should feel like they’re getting somewhere, but by the next morning, James is struck by the realization that nothing’s changed. Cristiano’s still got some evidence stacked against him, there are no potential suspects, and no other leads.

They’ve accomplished nothing.

The weight of those words hits him like a freight train and he finds himself unable to breathe. He promised Cristiano he’d get him out of there. He _promised_.

As time goes on, it doesn’t seem like he’ll be able to make good on that.

•  •  •

The trial begins and James feels anything _but_ prepared.

He’s usually on top of these kinds of things; he knows his way around the court. He knows what to say, what to do, and how to handle all the points the prosecution would make. But the minute he enters the courtroom, it feels as if he’s forgotten everything he once knew. He keeps his eyes glued to the ground, unable to look at people who he knows are looking at him. He doesn’t want to see them because he knows these will be the same people who will probably be laughing about him at the end of the trial – James Rodríguez, the naïve lawyer who took on a case he couldn’t possibly hope to win.

He’s starting to feel like that little kid with a stutter who everyone believed wouldn’t make it far. The kid who everyone thought was way in over his head.

There’s nothing he hates more than this feeling of inadequacy but he reminds himself that this is the courtroom, that this is the one place where he does what he does best and that no matter what anyone thinks about him, he’s the best man for the job.

He makes his way towards the front, where Cristiano is seated behind a desk, drumming his fingers against the wood – a nervous tic of his which James picked up on recently.

“I’ve got Chicharito looking for more leads. Today may not go well, but I guarantee you, you’re not going to jail at the end of this trial. I won’t let that happen.”

Cristiano doesn’t look like he believes him and James doesn’t blame him.

He doesn’t believe himself either.

•  •  •

The first few days are a nightmare, nothing James says seems to do much good. Not even when he argues that the other people Suarez had stolen from could have been his killer.

Whatever he has to say, the prosecution is always one step ahead, countering with compelling evidence of their own – evidence that is worth ten times more than whatever James has to say. He’s starting to feel like this case truly is hopeless, that maybe he really was in over his head when he decided to represent someone with so much evidence stacked against them.

But his luck turns around when he returns home one day to see Chicharito waiting at his door, a large smile on his face. “I got something!”

He hands James a manila envelope containing a few DVDs which would, according to his colleague, save the case. He’s skeptical that anything could save a case that was seemingly impossible to win, but he decides to give it a try.

He slides the first disc into his DVD player to find security footage of the place of the murder – footage, which he thought had been erased. He turns to give Chicharito a questioning glance. “How did you get this? The guy… he said the footage had been deleted.”

“Yeah, he erased it. But I was able to recover it. You forget I was a computer science major before I got into law.”

“Why would he erase it?”

“Because he’s the killer. And that’s what the second disc is: a confession.”

James is so happy he feels like he could kiss Chicharito (although, he wouldn’t, because that’s just weird. Besides, there’s another person he’d rather be kissing, and he’s currently behind bars).

Not for long, though.

•  •  •

After bringing up the evidence in court, the rest of the trial is pretty smooth.

James is back to being the big man in court. He’s able to counter every argument the prosecution makes, deeming everything they say to be invalid in light of this new evidence. He shows the jury the footage and the confession (which he’s still not sure how Chicharito got) which both clearly illustrate that Álvaro Arbeloa, a security guard at who worked at the building where Suarez was murdered outside of, was the killer.

He’d heard from one of his good friends that Suarez had taken some money from him. Blinded by anger, Arbeloa had believed it was his duty to do something about it. So, he’d cornered Suarez and murdered him. He erased the security footage of the incident, preventing cops and James from determining who the real killer was, and instead left an anonymous tip to the police claiming Cristiano was the killer.

The trial ends with the jury reaching the verdict that Cristiano Ronaldo is, in fact, not guilty. The minute he hears this, Cristiano jumps up and hugs James, whispering fervently in his ear, “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

He pulls away, and looks James straight in the eye and says, “You saved my life. You know that right? You… you’re amazing.”

James knows that Cristiano is referring to his skills as a lawyer when he says he’s amazing, not anything else, but he can’t help but find himself flushing a little at that statement. “I… uh… I’m not _that_ amazing. I mean, I was just doing my job.”

“You did a damn good job of it,” Cristiano says, hugging him again. “You’re… I don’t know how to say it. I just…” He breaks off with a chuckle. “I know I’m not making much sense right now, but I just don’t know how to express my gratitude.”

“Well, I hate to be the person to say this, but I told you so. I told you that I wouldn’t let you die, and look. You’re not dying anytime soon.”

Cristiano grins, slinging his arm around James’ shoulder, and although he knows most people would feel slightly uncomfortable with their client being this touchy-feely with them, he doesn’t really mind.

(He prefers it, actually.)

“I don’t think it’s possible for me to say just how thankful I am for what you did, but you actually did it. I spent the past month preparing myself for the death sentence. It seemed hopeless. I expected nothing less than dying. In fact, I was preparing for it. I was trying to figure out how exactly to say my goodbyes, but then… you _saved_ me.”

There are tears in his eyes, which he’s swiping away furiously with his hands.

“You just got out of a death sentence. Don’t go crying on me now.”

That gets him to smile. James notices that this time when Cristiano looks at him, there’s no longer that hollowness that he’s grown accustomed to the past month. There’s some life there and it fills him with warmth when he realizes that he’s the one who put it there.

Cristiano pulls him in for another hug (not that James is protesting, or anything) and it feels like everything’s clicking into place. This trial may have been one of the hardest he’s ever had to deal with, but he knows that all the suffering he had to go through to prove Cristiano’s innocence is worth it.

As long as he gets to be this close to Cristiano, it’s all worth it.

He only hopes that he’s not the only one who feels this way.


End file.
